The Power
by Morning Twilight
Summary: The summer before Harry's seventh year, he discovers a unique talent: he can do magic without his wand. That could be useful in defeating Lord Voldemort, but is the power for the better? *Harry has an attitude problem!*
1. Anger

A/N: Another New Story. Sorry, but I have writers' block in all the other stories I'm writing. 

Even before Harry started at Hogwarts, he could cause things to happen, even without a wand. As Harry's magical training progresses, he learns how to use this power better. But is that a good thing?

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, places, names, etc. are not mine, but JK Rowling's, Warner Bros. Inc., Scholastic publishing, and all other affiliates. I claim no credit for them and no copyright infringements are intended. 

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Harry lay awake in his bed at Number 4, Privet Drive. Sleep never came easy to him. It hadn't for the past three years. His dreams were plagued with visions of Death and Lord Voldemort ruling the world with no one able to stop him. He saw everyone dear to him die horrible deaths in these nightmares and often went without any sleep at all.

This particular night, Harry stared at his ceiling, thinking of something to pass the six hours left until sunrise. He had finished all of his summer assignments during the first three weeks of his holiday. He had just written to Sirius, his godfather, the night before, and so he was left with the task of entertaining himself by some other means.

He sat up and pulled out his wizard robes. To his dismay, they now seemed quite frayed from last year, but they were still the right size. Several loose strings were hanging off the bottom and cuffs of the sleeves. Harry pulled out a small sewing kit he had gotten on his last trip to Hogsmead to sew a Gryffindor lion onto on of his shirts.

Harry threaded the needle and started expertly pinning up all the unrestrained strings. A sudden tap on his window from an owl delivering a message caused Harry to prick himself sharply and drop his work, then tumble off his bed. Harry cursed under his breath as he opened the window to let the owl in. He directed it to Hedwig's cage for some food and water.

As the owl was replenishing himself, Harry examined his cut, and saw it bleeding, but not too bad. Harry had experienced far worse pain many times in his life, but still, this hurt quite bad. He stared at the tiny gash and, amazingly, it started slowly disappearing.

Harry didn't avert his gaze, in wonderment about this mystery. Soon enough, it was gone completely, with all the traces of blood as well. He traced another of his fingers over the spot where the slit was, and felt no pain.

The owl hooted and Harry tore his gaze away.

"Here," Harry said, untying the letter. "Off you go."

The owl took flight out of the open window and flew off silently into the dark night sky.

Harry sighed. Nothing ever seemed to be normal in his life, not even by a wizard's standards.

*

Harry didn't sleep that night, which wasn't a surprise at all. He'd spent the rest of the night pondering why his wound had suddenly disappeared. After that topic got boring, Harry extracted a notebook from his trunk along with a quill, and wrote everything going through his mind. It had no order and wasn't organized in the least, but it helped. He took up five rolls in total, and came to some new decisions.

He decided he needed to talk to Dumbledore about EVERYTHING. That meant any secrets he had been hiding, everything about what Tom Riddle was like at school, information about every Death-Easter, past or present, and any theories Dumbledore might have. Harry wanted to be prepared if Voldemort ever decided to pull a surprise attack somewhere.

Harry also decided that it was he that would have to end up killing Voldemort in the end. He, after all, had Harry's own blood circulating through his veins. He killed Harry's parents and altogether ruined his life.

There was, of course, the fact that Harry's and Voldemort's wands shared a phoenix feather core from the same phoenix. That made it very difficult to battle him, or to do any damage at all. Harry would have to talk about that with Dumbledore as well.

Now, though, Petunia Dursley forced Harry to cook the family a special breakfast, in honor of Dudley losing two pounds. (Actually, Dudley set the scale back. In reality, he gained ten pounds.) This was a laborious task, considering the size of both Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and the amount that both could eat when allowed it.

Harry had prepared pancakes, bacon, sausage, ham, eggs of three varieties, waffles, and French toast, all in huge quantities. A rumbling in the floor alerted Harry of his relatives' arrival into the kitchen, and he set all the plates on the table, not daring to take anything until they had first picks.

After everyone was seated, Dudley got first picks, then Uncle Vernon. By this time harry was worried there wouldn't be anything left at all for him. He was right. Aunt Petunia took the last "measly scraps," as Uncle Vernon called them, and Harry's plate was left empty.

Harry could feel his anger building in him, and he glared fiercely at everyone. Not a single thank you. Not even a hint of gratefulness in anyone.

"What are you so angry about?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"Oh, I wonder," Harry said sarcastically.

"You, boy, be grateful you have a roof over your head. If it weren't for us, you'd be a bum on the streets, begging for food in shabby clothes."

"Gee, what a difference from here," Harry remarked, sarcastically again.

Uncle Vernon rose swiftly from his seat, and grabbed the collar of Harry's shirt. He held him an inch away from his face, so that Harry got pelted with food particles as his uncle yelled. "You ungrateful little rat! Why, you have no idea the sacrifices this family makes to keep you! We have to clothe you, feed you--"

"What!?" cried Harry. "You've never given me a single new thing in my life! For clothing, you give me Dudley's old rags! As for food, look at my plate! I don't get shit around here!"

"YOU! OUT! NOW!" roared Uncle Vernon. Harry glared at him maliciously. Harry could feel it this time. The magic from somewhere deep inside him was surfacing and he knew something terrible would happen to his uncle.

Harry backed away and couldn't help but smirk as he saw his uncle grasping for the table as he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach in pain. Aunt Petunia screamed and Dudley just stared in horror with his mouth gaping open and food dribbling down his chin.

"What have you done?" Aunt Petunia exclaimed. Harry strolled out of the kitchen and to his bedroom, oddly comfortable. He packed everything into his trunk, except his broomstick, and shrunk it, so that it would be small enough to fit into his pocket. He did the same with Hedwig's empty cage. Out the front door he walked, whistling a tune of the Weird Sisters, ignoring the frantic sobs of his aunt in the next room.

*

Harry mounted the broom and soared into the air as soon as he was in the driveway. He didn't know where he was going, but it felt good to leave that awful, muggle house. He flew for a while, a couple hours at least, thinking about nothing in particular. He thought vaguely of visiting Ron or Hermione, but right now, he needed to land. His butt and back were sore.

He picked a clump of trees to land in, and walked out of it, his broom concealed in his pocket, shrunk like everything else he owned. No one walking on the streets in the small town gave Harry a passing glance. Harry thought it felt good to not be gawked at by everyone. 

Harry stepped into a nearby café and sat at the counter. A plump waitress walked to him and asked for his order. 

"I'll have a hamburger and some fries, please. And a cola to drink." His food was delivered pretty quickly and Harry ate it fast. He wanted to get back in the air. Harry left the café and went outside after paying. (Luckily, he had some muggle money on him.) He was walking towards the small grove of trees when a large shaggy black dog strolled into his path. Harry froze and so did the dog.

"Suffles?" Harry asked. The dog nodded and motioned for Harry to follow him into the trees. Once there, the resumed the shape of Sirius Black.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Sirius asked. Harry just looked at him. "Does anyone know you're here? I highly doubt Dumbledore would approve of you wandering about England on your own!" Harry didn't say anything. "Harry, you of all people should realize the danger in it! What if Voldemort or Death-Eaters had caught you? Then where would we be?"

"I'm seventeen, for cripe's sake! I'm fine! And I can take care of myself!" Harry retorted.

"Yes, but still, Harry, they're after you and you don't know where Voldemort's been lately, or where Death-Eaters have been spotted-"

"I would if someone would just _tell_ me!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm not a little kid anymore! I won't be scared if you tell me where Voldemort is, especially since I already KNOW HE'S AFTER ME! God! Why won't anyone tell me anything?"

"Harry-it's not-that's not why- where are you going?" Harry abruptly stood up and stormed of deeper into the trees. "Harry wait!" Sirius called. Harry started sprinting and Sirius changed forms and darted after him. Harry pulled the minute broom out of his back pocket, simply looked hard at it, and it became full size again. Without slowing, he mounted his broom and took off into the afternoon sky.

Sirius slowed to a stop and watched his godson fly away in disbelief. Harry hadn't had a wand, so how did he make his broomstick grow in size?

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A/N2: It's not very long, but I think it's well written. What do you think? Why don't you tell me in a nice *_review!_ * What a good idea!

*In future chapters, if I decide to continue with this, Harry will be caught by Dumbledore and brought to his house, where Harry asks to be told every secret that's been kept from him. Harry returns to Hogwarts and his friends don't like his new attitude.


	2. Revelations

A/N: I don't know why, but this is turning out to be the best story I've ever written. I might eventually finish it. Thanks for pointing out the mistake in the last chapter where I wrote 'wand' instead of 'broom'. I will be fixing it shortly.

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters, places, names, etc. are not mine, but JK Rowling's, Warner Bros. Inc., Scholastic publishing, and all other affiliates. I claim no credit for them and no copyright infringements are intended. 

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Harry flew away without a backward glance. He was fuming mad and he completely ignored the voice in the back of his head questioning his actions. Harry had every right to leave. Didn't he?

*

Sirius sat in the small grove of trees for a while, considering his options on what he should do next. At last, he decided that the best thing to do was to contact Dumbledore, the person who had Harry's undying respect.

Sirius changed back to human form and quickly apparated to Dumbledore's summer home in Godric's Hollow.

He reappeared, seconds later, miles and miles away from the small town in which he had encountered Harry. Dumbledore looked up at him from a comfy sofa in his living room.

"Something the matter?" Dumbledore asked.

"Sir, it's Harry."

"What's wrong with him. My last check told me that he was living comfortably with his relatives in Surrey."

"No, sir, he's not there. I was just in Faxton, checking up on that rumor for you, and Harry just kind of strolled into my pass. I took him into some trees and told him how dangerous it was to leave without telling anyone and he flew away."

"Oh, dear. We should find him right away! Faxton must be hundreds of miles away from Privet Drive. Get Remus and a few other people and we'll go out and see if we can't find him soon enough. I'll meet you in Faxton in ten minutes." Dumbledore told him. Sirius nodded and apparated to Remus's house. "Pity," added Dumbledore, "I was just about to have tea." 

Ten minutes later, to the 't', four people were standing on the same grove of trees in the little town of Faxton, all holding broomsticks and whispering. 

"Okay," said Dumbledore, "Sirius and Remus, you two go to the east, Mundungus, you go to the north, and I'll go to the west. Arabella Figg will alert me if Harry returns home, so we don't need anyone to go south. Meet back at my house in Godric's Hollow in an hour."

With that, and a few additional comments on safety and staying out of sight, the four figures rose into the air in search for Harry Potter. Dumbledore thought Harry had probably gone west, since that's the direction of his friend's, Ron, house. Harry had a knack for turning up with the Weasleys when he was troubled. So that's where Dumbledore headed, keeping a watchful eye out for Harry.

Dumbledore was starting to rather enjoy the warm feeling of the afternoon sun on his face when he spotted another figure flying about a half-mile away. Dumbledore urged his broom faster and gained distance on Harry, without him noticing.

Dumbledore was only twenty-some feet behind Harry before he spoke up. "Nice day for a ride, don't you think?" 

Harry turned his head quickly in surprise at hearing another voice, let alone the voice of his Headmaster. Harry's eyes widened and Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the odd expression on the boy's face. "Why don't we go to my house and have some tea?" Dumbledore offered.

Harry sighed and said, "Okay. There was something I was meaning to talk to you about anyway." The two changed their direction so that they pointed slightly more north and headed for Godric's Hollow.

Not much conversation went on, but Dumbledore asked Harry simple questions like what he was considering doing after graduation. Harry told him he didn't know. To tell truth, Harry hadn't given much thought about anything after school. He assumed he would be busy helping in the war against Lord Voldemort, but other than that, he was clueless.

At long last, they reached Dumbledore's home. Harry dismounted onto wobbly legs. Dumbledore laughed as harry wobbled over to a bush for support. "Got to get your land legs back!"

It was a considerable amount past the hour limit Dumbledore had said they all should be back by, and the other searchers were waiting in Dumbledore's living room. Their faces lightened as they saw Dumbledore walk in followed by Harry whose eyes were darting around at all of the magical things the old wizard had. There were twirling things, things that produced eerie noises as you walked by, things that made you laugh, and things that left you worried.

"You may all go," Dumbledore told the adults. "I need a word with Harry in private, please. Everyone filed out the door and Harry was careful not to meet Sirius's gaze. "Harry, why don't we go into my Study?" Harry followed after the old man, delayed in his going, wanting to inspect the interesting trinkets.

It seemed that every room was just as interesting as the first. Harry saw through a door, which was opened only a crack what looked like a hoard of puffskeins rampaging around in little saplings growing out of the floor, but he couldn't be sure. "In here," said Dumbledore, holding open a door for Harry. He walked in and sat down at the chair across from the desk that stood by two very large windows overlooking a small pond.

"Harry, please, for just a moment, pay attention to me." Harry stopped looking around and watched as Headmaster continued. "Why did you leave the Dursleys?"

Harry sat silent for a while. "I guess," he finally said, "that I got fed up with them. You don't know what they're like, sir. They treat my like I'm some kind of animal not fit for them to socialize with. They only give me clothes that use to belong to Dudley which are about ten sizes too big, and I only eat when Dudley's full, and that's pretty much never."

"I see. And you find this reason enough to remove your uncle's own stomach?" Harry stared.

"What?"

"Harry, when you left, you were very mad, am I right?" Harry nodded. "In your anger, do you think it's possible that you forgot that you cast a spell to remove your uncle's stomach entirely?"

"No, sir," Harry said, bewildered. "I didn't even have my wand with me then." Harry thought back very hard, and he realized that he didn't use his wand at all the entire day, yet he shrunk all of his belongings. Harry pulled out the tiny trunk that held all of his things, his wand included. "Sir, how did I do this? My wand is still inside."

Dumbledore looked from Harry to the trunk and back, thoughtfully and said, "Engorgio." The trunk began to grow back to its normal size, and Harry sat it on the floor. He opened it, after it was normal once again, and pulled his wand out. "See?"

"Yes. How very odd..." Dumbledore paused for a moment and Harry could tell he was doing some serious thinking. "Harry, I think it will be best if you stay with me for the rest of the summer and maybe longer."

"Longer?"

"Harry, you broke many laws against underage wizardry today, and you nearly killed your own uncle. I think it's best to let you stay here for a little while."

"But, I'll miss school!" Harry cried in outrage. "The only thing that's kept me going all summer, and all the previous summers, is knowing that I'll be able to see my friends! You can't stop me from seeing them!"

"Harry!" Dumbledore said sharply. "That's why. You don't seem capable of controlling your temper anymore." Harry glared at his lap. "But, if by the end of summer, you can act rationally, I will allow you to join your friends immediately."

"Fine."

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, his anger subsiding a bit. "I would like to know every secret that you've ever kept from me."

To Harry's amazement, Dumbledore laughed. "Why, Harry, that's not an easy thing to do! People tell white lies all the time, as well as keep secrets so that we know you're safe. For instance, a mother might tell her son that he has to be good, so that Santa Clause will bring him presents, but in reality, she just wants him to behave, but for his own safety."

"I don't care about that kind of secret," said Harry. "I want to know things like where Voldemort is, what my parents had to do with him, why I survived the killing curse and so on. I want to know the major things about me that you say I don't know for my own good. Wouldn't it be better if I just knew?"

Dumbledore's smile was replaced with a more serious expression. "What do you want to know first?" he said with a sigh.

Harry couldn't believe it. "Y-you mean you're going to actually tell me?" Harry asked incredulously. Dumbledore nodded.

"It's high time you learned some things, anyway, Harry. Now, what should I tell you first?"

"Why was Dumbledore after my parents?" Harry asked, deciding to keep it simple at first.

"Well, as you know from your second year and the adventure with the Chamber of Secrets, Voldemort is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself. You also know, or should from History of Magic, that Gryffindor and Slytherin were never on the best of terms, much like you and Voldemort are not. Voldemort had been doing his research and found the descendants of Gryffindor: you and your father."

Harry stared, open-mouthed. "I'm a descendant of Godric Gryffindor _himself_?" Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"Why do you think you could pull his sword out of the Sorting Hat? I told you that only a true Gryffindor would be able to, but you thought I meant someone in his House, as I meant you to.

"Voldemort was reading prophecies written long ago and stumbled upon some which seemed to concern him. They talked of his downfall by the 'heir of his ancestor's enemy'. He figured the whole thing out and wanted to kill you and your father before you could destroy him. And as you know, his power was destroyed."

"But how did I survive his curse? I mean, I know my mum died to save me, but is that power really strong enough?"

"Harry, you're right. The fact that your mother died to save your life would not actually have been enough to save you and destroy Voldemort. But I would like to go off track for a little while."

Dumbledore was choosing his next words carefully, as Harry could tell. "In fact," he continued, "it did nothing at all. Because your mother did not actually die."

Harry thought he had heard wrong. How could his mother be alive? "She's alive?" said Harry blankly. His voice hid the disbelief and anger he was feeling.

"No." Dumbledore said.

"But you just said she didn't di-"

"She did not die that night, as a found out in your sixth year. If you'll remember, your friend Hermione's cat disappeared that year."

"Crookshanks? What's he got to do with anything?"

"Crookshanks was not actually a cat, nor a male cat for that matter."

Harry suddenly understood. "Was my mum an animagus?" Harry asked.

"Yes. You'll remember that the cat had an unnatural dislike for Scabbers, who turned out to be Peter Pettigrew? Your mother, Crookshanks, knew who it was all along and was helping Sirius catch him."

"But why didn't she come out of animagus form?"

"She couldn't. She was trapped in the body of a cat. But I have yet to figure out why. I believe it has something to do with the fact that she transformed at the exact time she was hit with the curse."

Harry sat silent for some time, absorbing all this information. Dumbledore spoke softly, "Harry, do you want to know anything else?"

He nodded. "Why didn't the killing curse actually kill me like it was supposed to?"

"That is, and always will be, a mystery," Dumbledore told him. Harry studied the Professor's face carefully. He couldn't tell if that was the whole truth or not. "If that's it, then I suppose you should like a tour of my house?"

Harry had no objections to that and so they spent the rest of the day looking into the various rooms of the large house, which was strangely cozy, despite its size. Harry went to bed and forgot his anger after he had so much fun with Dumbledore. But that little voice in his head came back and told him there was something important that he forgot to ask...

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A/N: Whew! That was long. I know there's still a lot of stuff I haven't explained yet, but Harry will ask more questions as the days go by. Anything you would like to have explained, or if there are any rumors you have heard that you want me to add, tell me in a review {hint}. (For example, there's a rumor that Harry will be revealed as Gryffindor's heir)

Will Harry get over his anger and be at school for the start of term? What will his punishment be? What other secrets is Dumbledore hiding?


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